


His Life to Live

by BeneathTheFlowers



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Childhood, Divorce, F/M, Growing Up Together, Homophobia, M/M, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-16 14:59:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7272787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeneathTheFlowers/pseuds/BeneathTheFlowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>His troubled childhood and a past figure he's not ready to face yet is brought back into his life again when Louis recieves an unexpected call in the middle of the night. With his wedding just around the corner, Louis is drawn back to his childhood, where his life was turned upside down. He relives his first love, as well as ups and downs, and uncovers secrets kept away from him. Will he risk everything and follow his long-forgotten dream, or will the wedding take place after all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> I''ve decided I would post this story as I write it. I'm quite sure where it's headed, but there might be some changes along the way, although that won't affect the reading experience. It's inspired by my personal life as well as bits and bobs I've collected from all around. Motivational messages and critique is always greatly appreciated! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I hope you'll enjoy the story!  
> With much love, Anna x

 

**Prologue**

“Hello.”

A sharp inhale. Then a long pause, filled with nothing but tension and anticipation.

“You would think,” a dramatic pause. A low snicker. “After all this time, one _would_ think you wouldn’t remember what my voice sounded like.”

Lips sealed. Eyes shut, pressed together as to not let in any light.

“Although, I might understand just why my voice would be easily recognizable.” A small laugh this time. He could almost see his face as he listened, pictured the long forgotten face of a man he never thought he would hear from again. At least not yet.

“We _do_ have some history, don’t we?”

The picture of the face laughed at him. The green eyes pressed into thin lines, mocking him. Daring him.

The man on the other line cleared his throat.

“Anyway, that’s not why I called.” A pen clicking on a table. Quietness on the other line. The chatter of people walking by the sidewalk underneath his apartment. The other line was clearly waiting for him to say something. He grit his teeth. Decided he would give in.

“Why _did_ you call, then?”

“Ah, so nice finally hearing your voice again. Was starting to forget how snappy you always are.” 

“I’m not snappy.”

A cackle burst through the phone, making him turn down the volume as he quickly looked towards the bedroom door.

“I can’t talk much longer,” he whispered into the phone. The snoring seemed to have quieted down a bit, he thought.

“Ah, I understand.”

Another pause. He wondered if that was going to be it. He also briefly wondered if this would be the last time he would hear from him.

“Would not want to wake anyone, would we now?”

“Don’t-“

“Listen, I just called to congratulate you. I heard the news, of course. That kind of information just seemed to hunt me down. When is it?” The voice cracked. He let his eyes close again.

“Next week.”

“Already? Wow, okay. Ehm, I don’t know. Isn’t that,” a nervous snort. “Isn’t that kind of early?”

Lips pressed together once more.

“We’ve been together for five years now.”

“Right,” the word was loud, almost spit out through the line. “Right,” a bit lower, more thoughtful this time. “Five years, you say?” A soft humming.

“Five wonderful years.” He attempted to swallow the big lump that formed in his throat.

The other man muttered under his breath. “Feels like an eternity.”

“Well, great having this chat with you, really, but I ought to go now-“

“You won’t be seeing me there,” the serious tone knocked into some part of him. He furrowed his brows.

“I won’t?” He thought he heard the bed creaking from the bedroom. The mattress squeal. “Why?”

 A snort. “I don’t really have to answer that question, do I? We both know the answer anyway.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it a second later. The bedroom door pushed open.

“I won’t be in your way much longer.”

The bathroom door was opened. His brows lifted high.

“What do you mean?”

“Goodbye, Lou”. Then, as he was catching up, the line went dead.

Their words summed together like flies near the light. Tangled up in each other. None of it really made any sense, as he thought back. None of it. He remembered it now, though. All of it. The memories came back now, like a flowing river after the snow melted. Memories of a vivid, dream-like reality. A collection of emotions came back, as well. Leaving him feeling empty and overwhelmed all at the same time.

“Everything okay?” The voice came from the bathroom. The door was open. He didn’t look up to meet the gaze he felt on himself. “Louis?”

“Someone called,” was all he managed to say.

“Who? Was it the cake delivery? I was told they would call sometime this week. Weird of them to call in the middle of the night, don’t you think?”

“I think I need to head out.” The words came out unsure, as if he was asking a question. He got up from the deep leaning chair. He pressed his hand to his mouth, letting his eyes shut for just another moment.

“Head out? Now? I don’t understand-“

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” he opened his eyes now. His mind was cleared. He understood just what was waiting for him. Understood he could not run from this any longer.

He grabbed his coat from the hanger, didn’t put it on. “I’ll be home before you know it,”

“I love you!”

He got the door open, tucked his feet into his shoes.

“And I love you. Forever and ever!”

 

 

The door did not close itself after him.


	2. Burning the Lines

Burning the Lines

Louis was eleven and had just barely learned how to ride a bike when his parents decided to divorce. It was in the middle of summer, four weeks left ‘til school started up again, when his mother just could not bear it any longer. Louis was not aware at the time, but his father had lost his job and their only income. Louis remember them arguing, back and forward, his mum crying and his dad barking back. He remember when his mum abruptly stopped crying and left out through the door without another word. 

His father did not talk much the next few weeks of summer vacation. The promised trip to Spain was cancelled short after, the money spent on alcohol and cigarettes. His dad said:

“We have to save our money now. You see, dad is having some trouble with money.”  
And Louis, as a natural problem-solver, responded:

“We can sell some of my toys. I don’t even use them all.” He quirked his eyebrows. His dad scrunched up his nose. 

“You don’t have to do that, Lou.” He sighed and drew his long fingers through his hair. “You don’t have to worry about this.”

“I do worry.” Louis curled his body around his dad’s warm torso. “I worry about you.”

And so, the next week, all of his toys were emptied out of his room and sold. His room was left blank and boring. They ate three meals a day that week. And then, as the money ran short the next week, Louis only ate the lunch he got at friend’s. When school started up again, he remember never being that thankful for free school meals. While his friends sat by the table, complaining about the soggy vegetables and dry meat, Louis would gather all of the remains and carry it with him home. 

Some nights he spent alone in the small house. His dad was rarely home anymore. His mum never showed up, like his dad would tell him when he was feeling down and missing her. She never called, either. He did not know where his dad went. He would hear the door unlock in the middle of the night, sometimes even early in the morning, and then soft padding up the stairs. Once, he had heard another voice as well, coming up the stairs past his room, but then he had pressed his pillow as hard against his ears as he could manage and crept as far under the duvet as possible. 

He was heartbroken when he found out they were moving. 

“What about my friends? What will they do without me?” he had complained. His father had shrugged, not looking up from the newspaper.

“They’ll manage alright. You’ll get new ones.”

“But what about my school?”

“You’ll go to another school.” 

“I don’t want to-“

“You’ll have to. End of discussion.” His father had ended it right there, then. Louis knew better than to keep on pushing. He knew better than to annoy his father. Knew there was nothing he could do to change the situation anyway.   
The money left would not have lasted nearly long enough if they did not move. The house they were living in was more than enough for the both of them, especially with his dad almost never home. He figured they would have to find a cheaper option. Whether Louis would keep his friends or not was not high on the list of priorities.

Even after walking through the house once more, saying goodbye to every room, he still did not feel ready. His belongings were all packed up in brown boxes, large handwriting indicating the contents in each. The only thing left to do was for them to get in the car and drive away. Drive away from his childhood and all of his memories. All of his friends. School. Opportunities. For Louis, the future was a blank page, without the lines. He would have to start all over now. He would have to draw the lines himself. And then, he would have to refill the lines with words that went together. 

 

After about a week of misery that was being the new kid at school, Louis decided he’d had enough. He did not want to be the new kid any longer, could not bear it anymore. Nobody spoke to him, only sent him these looks. Looks that showed no acceptance whatsoever. He was quite literally done that Friday, coming home from school. 

“I would like to go home now, Dad,” he mumbled as he stumbled into the kitchen where his dad was smoking a cigarette, with a beer in his other hand. He chuckled.

“This is your home now, Lou,” he stared out into the thick, smoke-filled air in the kitchen.

“But I can’t take this anymore! No one is even talking to me. I’ve got no one to play with…” 

“Well, you should make a better effort, then,” his dad stumped the cigarette, pouting his lips. 

 

“Oi! New kid!”

Louis’ head whipped around, the strong wind catching his hair and hitting him right in his face. The winter came early this year; the ground was already covered in white frost. The trees were shivering in the icy wind and the sky had gone white as a ghost. 

“Louis, is it?” Louis nodded quickly, his chin bobbing up and down. 

“Come with us, would you?” the boy made a hand-motion towards him, and Louis stumbled to his feet. He caught up with the older boy, as he was standing there, waiting patiently for him. 

“My name’s Elliot, by the way. I’ve noticed you always sit by yourself, you see, and my friends and myself would like to know if you wanted to join us in a game of football,” the other boy had to walk slowly. Louis was short for his age, much shorter than any of the other. He was practically jogging beside the other boy to keep up with him. 

“I love football,” Louis admitted. 

The other boy smiled coolly. “I’m sure you do.”

It was hard, he admitted. All of Elliot’s friends were just as tall as Elliot himself, if not taller, and Louis grew increasingly more tired of having to run all the time to be able to participate. The rest of the boys shot tiny glances his way every once in a while, but for the most part, Elliot was the only one to really notice his presence. He was the only one to speak much, as well, Louis noticed.

“You’re eleven, right?” Elliot asked, raising his eyebrows. Louis nodded quickly. The game was over and most of the boys had gone home as the sky was starting to darken. Some were left, though. 

“Would you want to play another game of football with us sometime?” Elliot seemed to drag out the question, looking at the other boys as he said it. Louis met their gazes. 

“Well, of course,” he’d have to get used to their longer legs, then, he thought. “But I’m not as fast as you lot are, of course-“

“Well, if you really want to join us, meet us in the back alley behind the school,”

“Nine o’clock at Wednesday,” another boy finally chimed in. Louis’ eyes shot towards him. 

“I would be glad,” Louis’ father would never agree to let him wander the streets that late. Especially on a school night. “But I’m afraid Dad wouldn’t-“

“You’ll meet us, right?” Elliot lifted his thick eyebrows. All of the boys’ eyes were on him now. He swallowed a thick lump in his throat.

“I’d have to sneak out,” he mumbled, more to himself than anything. Elliot lifted his big hand and patted him on his shoulder.

“There you go. Charlie here will organize a test, and we’ll figure out if you are right for the team,” Elliot picked up the football from the icy pavement, toyed with it in his hands. He met Louis’ gaze again. Shot him a knowing smirk. “Or not.”

Wednesday came around rather quickly. Louis had kept himself fairly busy up until then. He had seen no other option than to be prepared for whatever was to face him on Wednesday, and so he had focused on playing football. But not just playing football. He figured he’d have to run much faster than what he did, when he was to play with kids much bigger than himself. And so, every morning before school, he’d get up before any bird had sung his morning melody, and jog at least two rounds around his neighbourhood. After a while, he pushed it to three.  
His father was rather impressed with his attitude, saying how he himself had started out just as Louis was. Louis knew he’d have to work even harder to really impress his dad, though. He’d have to make it to the team. He’d have to be a part of something bigger than himself. And so, when Wednesday arrived, Louis could not bring himself to sit still on the school chair.   
He gazed out of the window, wondering where Elliot and his friends were right this second. They were two years older than him, and were probably spending their time on far more exciting things than a lesson from old Mrs. Hughes. They were probably out there, practicing their dribbling skills or just casually playing a game with each other. 

As if the time had gone too quickly throughout the week, the time seemed to slow incredibly down that Wednesday evening. It was raining outside, drops colliding with the cold pavement outside and forming puddles with consistency that reminded Louis of slush. 

His father put him to bed without saying good night. Just hugged him tighly, and diappeared out the door without throwing another look back at Louis. Louis tried laying still. Tried focusing on different things rather than what was about to happen. He would admit it to anyone; he was terrified. Terrified with himself for what he was about to do. He didn't think he would ever forgive himself if he got caught. And he was certain that his father wouldn't either. 

The time came around for Louis to prepare for sneaking out the window. He had laid out his clothes beforehand; didn't want to stress about it at the last minute. And besides – what else was he supposed to waste his time on while he waited for the big night? He tossed the white blanket away and started unbuttoning his sleepwear, struggling as his hands were shaking all over the place. He finally managed to get it off, and threw on his planned outfit – a new, simple gray t-shirt and a tight pair of jeans.

As he opened the window, he remembered the one thing he had forgotten. A pair of shoes. He looked hopelessly down at his bare toes, wiggled them slightly and sighed. No, he thought, he would have to sneak downstairs. 

His bedroom door resembled a moaning cat, echoing through the hallway. Surely his father would wake up any second. Especially as he would have to walk right across his father's bedroom on his way down the stairs. And speaking of the stairs – they were worse than Louis' bedroom door. Worse than one hundred moaning cats. At the very least. Louis swallowed thickly. 

«You will have to do this, Lou,» he mumbled to himself. «There is simply no other way around this.»

He lifted his left foot slowly, stepped infront of him careful not to make a sound. He could hear his father snoring, and his heart slowed down just a bit before he took the next step. 

He was standing right in front of his father's door when he suddently felt something tickle his leg. Louis shot a glance down his right leg and almost screamed louder than the one hundred moaning cats. On his leg was a black spider, making its way towards his knee with a confindent pace. Louis' eyes budged out, and he clamped one hand over his mouth, afraid he might not be able to control himself. 

For one tiny second he considered stomping on the floor to make it fall off. Then he would have to go to bed and cancel all of his earlier plans for the night, as his father would most likely wake up. The spider slowly crept upwards, dangerously much so. Louis made a choking sound. He would have to do something quick. He wouldn't be able to wipe it away, would he? The spider showed no hesitation reaching the knee, tickling the short hairs. Louis squeezed his eyes shut. 

With a sudden panic rushing through him, he lifted his hand and with a shaking flick of his wrist, he pushed the spider off of him. He watched as the little creature continued his journey across the floorboards. Louis shuddered, brushing at his hand in a hurry, as if some of the spider was still left on his hand. 

 

Louis was sure he was already too late, as he silently fell from his window still with his shoes on his feet. He landed with a soft thud on the cold ground and looked around in the dark driveway. As an ice-cold breeze stroked his skin where his t-shirt didn't reach, he suddently realized he was a terrible outfit planner. It was late autumn, and here he was, standing in a thin t-shirt, jeans and some white summer sneakers. Well, on the bright side, he figured the shoes would blend right in with the icy white pavement. 

He reached the back alley behind the school just as he had began to shiver. 

«Oi! Look, it's Louis,» Elliot called, spotting him across the alley. The other boys turned around, including the Charlie kid, who was holding something in his hands. Louis reached them and tried to meet every pair of eyes with a friendly smile.

«Alright,» Charlie was the one to speak up now, all of a sudden. He had a raspy voice, Louis noted.  
«Now that everyone is here, let's begin the big test,» his eyes widened at the word «big» and he laughed a harsh laugh afterwards. Elliot beamed from his place, and moved up to Louis to stand by his side.

«Everyone in line, guys!» he informed, the other boys forming a wobbly line beside Elliot. Louis stood still beside him as he glanced nervously around the guys. They were all sneaking tiny looks at him, as if looking for some kind of reaction. Louis tried his hardest to ignore them, and focused on keeping his place in the line beside Elliot. He figured this would be the thing he had been training for. Now was the time to show them what he had been working so hard on these past few days. It all counted now. It was all in or nothing. Football team or nothing. He swallowed.

Then, Charlie took a step out of the line and fished a bag of something out of his pocket.  
«Here comes the test, Louis,» he fixated his intense gaze at Louis, making Louis squirm under the attention. «The first and only test, if I may add. All of the other boys have done it before and, obviously, succeeded,» he paused to analyse Louis' facial expressions. Louis kept a straight face, not letting his nerves control him and controlling the bad feeling in his gut that something was not quite right. He kept staring at the grey bag in Charlie's ruff hands. 

Charlie then turned away from him and walked towards a tall boy at the end of the line. He clearly opened the bag and pulled something out, before handing it to the tall guy. Then, he passed down to the next in line. Louis tried sneaking a glance at the thing he had given, but could not seem to see it in the tall boy's hand. He tried to figure out what it could possibly be. Surely, it must be something that would test Louis. And hopefully, it would be something that would show off his hard work. Silently laughing, he contemplated it being a rubik's cube.

Then, as Charlie suddently came up before him, he blinked surprised. Charlie smiled at him. A smile that could only be described as mocking and degrading. Louis wanted so badly to look away, to break the intense eye contact, but remained staring at the slightly bigger boy in front of him. Without looking, he could feel the gazes of the others as well, boring into him from all around him. Charlie reached into the bag and grabbed something inside it, dragging out the time with slow motions. As he finally pulled his hand up from the bag, Louis eyes shifted from Charlie's eyes to the small item in his hand.

A sigarette. A long, white sigarette. Staring right back at him. Looking just like the ones his father smoked. Louis looked up at Charlie again, confused. Charlie was already staring right back at him, his mouth pulled up in a wicked grin.

«Come on, now,» he pushed the sigarette towards Louis. «Take it. Feel it between your fingers.»

Louis looked around at the other boys, and met most of their eyes. They were all looking at him, expecting him to accept the sigarette. He swallowed thickly, blinked slowly, as he fixated his gaze at the sigarette offered to him. The alley had gone completely silent, as if everyone held their breath. He reached forwards with hesistance and grabbed the sigarette from Charlie's hand, and Charlie nodded. 

When Charlie moved over to Elliot beside Louis, Elliot reached inside the bag himself and pulled out his own sigarette. Charlie snickered and Elliot smiled around the sigarette he had popped into his mouth.

When everyone had gotten their sigarette, Charlie picked one for himself and gained everyone's attention again. Louis shivered, feeling his arms getting goosebumps. 

«And now, everyone can place their sigarette in their mouth. Louis, do you want any hep with that?» 

That got the whole bunch laughing around him, and he blushed. 

«You see, it's simple. You just place it between your lips, and then I'll come 'round and light everyone up.» 

Elliot giggled beside him. 

And then, Charlie began lighting up the sigarettes hanging in everyone's mouths. Louis had carefully placed his in his mouth, letting his mind stop for just a minute. Ignoring all of the warning voices inside his head, including his father's. He had to do this. There was simply no way around it. It was just like the spider; it wouldn't go away if he didn't do anything. He had to be brave. Had to dare to try. It was worth it in the end, he thought. It was worth it. It was. 

As Charlie lit up the sigarette beside Louis, his palms began sweating, and he quickly dried them on his pants. He couldn't believe he was actually doing this. He'd sworn it to himself; he would never smoke. Not ever. And here he was. Stood with a sigratte hanging loosely in his mouth, waiting for it to be lit up. 

Charlie moved towards him, stood right in front of him and smiled that awful smile again. And then, he was not smiling. And his eyes fell behind Louis, and his mouth dropped open, letting the sigarette in his mouth fall to the ground. 

«Excuse me, young gentlemen. I am terribly sorry for interrupting, but what exactly do you think you are doing?»

And before this, Louis would never think he would be happy to hear Mrs. Hughes' voice. Now, however, he was almost gleeful to turn around and find her there, stood with her hand on her hip and her mouth pressed together disapprovingly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading so far! I promise you'll hear from a certain someone *wink wink* soon enough...  
> On a slightly different topic though; could anyone care to recommend a tv-series they've enjoyed? Preferably a long one :) Thanks!!


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